8
When you say “Eight”, Mizuiro gives you a strange look and gets up. “That was my number,” he notes in an even voice, although by his face you can tell he is surprised.
You get up yourself and walk to the closet, holding the door open for him.
“Ladies first,” he says, nudging the door further open for you.
With a shrug, you go in and turn just in time to see the final sliver of light shutter out and hear the door latch click. Without waiting for Mizuiro to say something, you feel around until you find a wall and prop yourself against it. Cool, calm, and collected. Cool, calm, and collected, you repeat to yourself like a mantra. You feel clammy.
Mizuiro is adorable. There’s no two ways about it. But he’s also very sneaky, and you know that too—he particularly likes feigning innocence to engage the interest of the older women (girls) he dates. You, however, vow not to be one of those women (girls). Drawing yourself up to your full height (somehow you’re just a hair shorter than Mizuiro), you say in as authoritative a voice as you can muster, “Kojima, why are you playing? Did your last girlfriend dump you?”
“Actually, no. I had my eye on someone else, so I dumped her.”
He’d better not say it was me, or I will slap him so hard…
“…But Rukia isn’t really interested, more’s the pity.”
Your brain gallops straight into a brick wall. He wasn’t going to put the moves on you? But you’re older! Okay, it was only a year, but you’re still older, and—
“_______-chan, is something on your mind? You suddenly look incredibly flustered.”
“Quiet, Mizuiro. I’m trying to figure out if you’re going to play innocent and get me to kiss you.” You clap both hands across your mouth. Ding bat.
The closet goes completely silent. Finally Mizuiro says, “Do you want me to kiss you?”
He’s moving, you can almost feel it, and your hunch is rewarded by a sudden small, lean body pressing up against yours from behind, and a pair of arms wrapping around your waist. Resisting the urge to melt, you swallow hard again, and gingerly lay your arms over Mizuiro’s. “Yes, I’d… I’d er… I’d like to be kissed,” you finally say in a small voice.
He laughs.
Before you have time to misconstrue his laughter, Mizuiro turns you in his arms and kisses you briefly on the mouth. “_______, you’re probably the hardest person I’ve ever tried to understand. One minute you’re ready to tear someone’s head off, and the next you’re the sweetest girl in the world. If you want honesty, you annoy me.”
You feel your face flame up almost instantly. “Excuse me!”
“I don’t think you’re trying to, it’s just that—“
You slam the closet door open and storm outside, accidentally stepping on Urahara’s hand (again). You all but tear open the Kurosaki clinic’s front door and step out into what is apparently the first monsoon of the season—perfect to suit your mood. As your hair is plastered flat to your skull, you hear Mizuiro calling after you. “______-chan! _______-chan, wait!” You stop short and Kojima crashes headlong into you, sending you both into a puddle. Wet through and angry, you sit up, glowering into Mizuiro’s grey eyes. He’s straddling you, his own hair dripping, his clothes clinging to him. “I didn’t mean…” He tries to kiss you again, but you turn your head away.
Mizuiro’s lips nonetheless find the vulnerable spot just below your hairline, and his breath tickles your neck.
Ichigo and the others have followed you outside, and now all of them are standing, soaked and staring.
“We should go inside. Come on.” Tugging you to your feet, he leads you back inside, and you, not a complete moron, allow yourself to be led. You’re cold and shivering and the Kurosaki Clinic suddenly looks like Mount Olympus.
Once everyone is back inside, Mizuiro picks up his jacket (he hadn’t bothered to take it with him) and drapes it over your shoulders while Ichigo hands out some blankets from the cupboard. “______-chan, that was an incredibly stupid thing to do. You could have been hit by a car!” For the first time something in Mizuiro’s voice snaps.
Ichigo offers the two of you blankets. You reach for one, but Kojima grabs it and wraps both of you, pressing his arms around you and tucking your head under his chin.
You want to cry. Of course you got the jerk who suddenly decides to be nice, and the day when the sky opens up, and hormones running rampant. You burrow deeper into Mizuiro’s collarbone and he pulls the blanket tighter around you both.
You kiss his skin, faintly, hoping he just thinks it was accidental. He cups the back of your neck, making brief but meaningful eye contact with you. “Kiss me again,” he whispers into your hair.
Working the neck of his uniform down is not easy, but you manage, sneaking a quick look around. Everyone else is busy trying to warm up; they wouldn’t notice if you turned into an elephant and danced the Hokey Pokey. You turn back to Mizuiro and kiss his throat, brushing your lips at first, then gradually intensifying the contact. You lap his neck gently, and Mizuiro, surprised, catches his breath sharply. “I love you so much, Mizuiro.”
He rubs your back, tucking the blanket more firmly around you. “Is that why you took off like that?”
“Yeah. I’ve seen you with girls before. It never lasts long.”
“And I insulted you,” he adds, his voice oddly caressing. He smiles down at you, his eyes glowing pewter. “You do annoy me—but only because I didn’t understand why you did things. Now I think I have an idea. ________-chan, would you mind going out with me?”
You shake your head. “No, no… I love you.”
“I think I might love you too, if opposites attract the way they’re supposed to,” He says with a laugh. “Yes, I love you, _______-chan, and please, love me too.”
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